Trashy romance novels. Regency era bodice rippers. I feel guilty even buying them & could never face have a record of them at the library so I don't borrow them (though I donate them). Not sure why. It isn't as if I read 'improving' books or stuff from the NYT Best seller list. I read a wide range of things, travel essays, food essays, various historical things (mostly non-fiction). I just finished reading a book called "Sex with Kings" which is all about royal mistresses from the 15th to the 20th century. But for some reason reading "Scandal's Bride" or "the Lady's Chosen" is just too embarassing to admit in public
Throw it or save it?
Save it - 99% of the time. I am a horder. I had at one point over 2000 books in this house, many from my teen years. I had so many pullover sweaters I could wear a new one every day for a month & still have a few left over. Don't even get me started on pens, hair doodads, purses and tarot decks. But I find muyself the last few years getting into these pitch it moods and when I am - clear the way. Bags and boxes and piles of things go out of the house, to Goodwill, to the library, to the flea market, to the dump. There are still about a 1000 books inthe house, but only 6 sweaters. Its a small house with no attic or basement. There are now 4 people living here. We just can't hoard stuff like I used to.
What fragments of your past stay with you even though they seem insignificant?
This is embarassingly easy - embarassing moments seem to stay with me. Doesn't matter how insignificant the moment was, whether I was the only one who noticed, whether it was a conversation with 2 people or in front of a whole room full, all of them linger in my mind & pop up when I least expect them. All those squirmy feelings, still as fresh as they were 2 months or 25 years ago.